


inheritance (the valley)

by four (three)



Series: homegrown (a sleepy bois collection) [3]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Campfires, Camping, Canon Compliant, Families of Choice, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, drywaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28341162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/three/pseuds/four
Summary: Fundy and Niki take something for themselves.Do you mourn for things that haven't died yet?
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & Niki | Nihachu, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot
Series: homegrown (a sleepy bois collection) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064543
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	inheritance (the valley)

The riverbed is cracked, marked where water has long since gone. When Fundy steps up to the canyon's edge, the red earth crumbles under his foot, sending crumbs down farther than he can see. This barren, lifeless place is their own.

Niki is on the opposite bank, poking her head into the caves that line the cliffside. She casts long shadows, the sun hitting her back and glinting off her hair. Their silhouettes seem the only ones out here in this place without trees. Looking up, there are no branches or walls obscuring the vast sky. It extends past reason, marred only by clouds, and Fundy is made small. Here among nothing else, he imposes life on the lovely, lifelessness of the desert.

His throat is dry. 

He's struck from revery by Niki's call. She's found the best cave. He doesn't ask what makes it the best, just trusts her implicitly. 

The mouth of it is yawning dark, and the never-ending light of the desert peters out as he steps in. 

"What do you think?" She asks. Her voice carries, the lilt of it bouncing off the walls. 

"It's good. It's good." 

"Good! Let's make camp."

Is home so simple? Maybe for Niki. Before he knew her, she'd come from somewhere. The beads she wore and her patterned cloaks spoke of places much farther than any tale his father ever told him.

Fundy didn't know the earth, he knew the sea. The roiling water, all-consuming and boundless as the sky. He could close his eyes and feel its cool touch, and the cradle of being totally submerged. Beneath the chaos of the waves, it was calm.

He remembers the look in Wilbur's eyes when he would tell him. The way his hair would fly wild as if tossed by sea breeze. He would pass a flat hand through the air for the sea and articulate wildly with his other. Recalling it somehow felt empty. The delight he'd felt in tasting seawater in his father's words just made him thirstier now. 

Night descends quickly in the desert. The lanterns he was used to are gone and in their place, myriad stars. The valleys of the canyon ebb and flow, cast in blue and purple shadow. It's like looking out onto a still-photo of the ocean. Fundy turns away.

Niki is aglow as usual, the campfire illuminating her heart shaped face. Fundy reaches for a stick and prods the embers, sending shimmering sparks up into the air. 

"Will you miss them?" He asks.

Niki looks troubled, her brows drawn together. She doesn't meet his eyes, her gaze consumed by the fire. "I already do."

Fundy nods. He's not sure if the ache inside him is the same as hers. If its longing to go back, or if it has been there far longer than he wants to admit.

"It will be worse to see it fall. We've seen it once before already." Niki says quietly. 

"I don't think they deserve to be missed." He knows his voice is cutting, and silence extends between them for some time. 

"You're not untouchable. Just because you say it doesn't bother you..." It hurts to hear it from her. That even kind Niki can see the crack in him. 

Fundy cracks the stick in half and tosses the uneven ends onto the fire. The flames lick at the wood and catch. "If you tell yourself a lie enough times it will become true."

He knows as soon as he's said it that Niki will recognize the words. They're Wilbur's, stolen from the end of each of his tales. Every time Fundy asked where he came from, about his mother. His father had meant it to instill some sense of satisfaction with his apparent fairytale origin, but Fundy took it as permission to take untruths into himself. To accept every lie he could tell himself. 

Niki shuffles closer, the knees of her trousers red with soil. She drapes her cloak around them both, and drops her head onto his shoulder. Her silky hair presses into his cheek. It's all-encompassing like the sea. "I think he'll forget me soon." He says, and his voice is so small. "And then I won't have to miss him."

"Oh Fundy." 

"I'm so tired of belonging to him." He tilts his head to look back at the mesa. It belongs to no-one. 

She squeezes her fingers around his own and says nothing. He squeezes back. 

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a kudos if you liked it :)) even you, guests.
> 
> feel free to check out the other works in this series and leave a comment if you have a request.  
> my twitter is @moncuries


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